Werifesteria
by TattoedTeardrops
Summary: They say names have powers, and they couldn't have been more right about it. History repeats itself like a clock, ticking, turning, beating. An eon long yearning and guilt desperate of redemption. /"I've never realised I need an anchor 'till I sink, deeper and deeper into the cold embrace of insanity"/ KaiShin One-Shot


_Wer-if-est-er-i-a_

 _Old English_

 _(v)_

 _to wander longingly through the forest_

 _in search of mysteries_

\--

It was dangerous, he knew it, yet he kept pushing and pushing, just so he could get the euphoric feeling of the game, a game of cat and mouse. Indigo eyes met piercing blue, yet the moment felt so short, so far yet near, like an untouchable jewel.

 _But that was once upon a time ago..._

A fleeting moment, one he could never have forgotten, and to be honest, he didn't want to. Somewhere in the back of his mind, there was a string of nostalgia, like a yearning for something unreachable, something that he had _failed_ to steal, something that's gone, _forever._

 _...you promised..._

Lupin could feel it, the same feeling of loss and despair, the disbelief and the feeling of a missing piece, a piece of a puzzle that would complete him. He wanted to shout, to yell, to scream, to cry, to hold, to love, to _die._

 _...you said you'll never leave..._

Alas, he could only watch through his reincarnation's eyes, unable to do anything but to watch from the sidelines, like a movie. It's ironic, how the thief failed to steal what matters most in the end.

 _...liar..._

Never had he imagined he would've fallen for a _detective,_ of all people, but then again, sometimes detectives are good and stealing, maybe even better.

Never had he imagined love would feel so good, so _tantalizing_ , but that was years, decades, centuries, _eons_ ago, when his soul was young, his mind so naive, and his heart still intact.

 _...you lied..._

He remembered the day, back in the time where the only phantom in this world was Lupin, simply Arsene Lupin, a time where his reincarnation's night persona wasn't yet borne, the day where _his_ detective first attended his heist.

 _Holmes..._

That was his name, eons ago, yet it still filled him with a sense of longing, a yearning unsatisfied, unfulfilled, _incomplete._ He remembered the sharp yet soft face and those piercing eyes, tearing through his every lie, stripping him _barren_ from his facades, leaving him _naked_ and _vulnerable._

 _...I'm sorry..._

Oh, how he loved to be the target of those eyes, those beautiful cerulean eyes, shining brightly under the moonlight, far more beautiful than the gems he steals at night. But he realised it too late, as his young and naïve self had sneered and mocked what truly mattered most, had _hurt_ him deeply, and he never knew how much the detective mattered until he stopped attending his heists, stopped _caring_ for him.

 _...please...come back..._

Years after years passed like the pages of a book, empty and barren of any words, similar to what he felt at that time. He remembered those years, thise long and _painful_ years, all alone, yearning for the missing piece, throwing heists after heists all over the world, all in vain as his body finally cracked under the pressure and went down like a sunken ship.

 _...don't leave me..._

It was when he was reincarnated did he found out that the one he had been searching for had died, decades before his own body did. He remembered the humourless laugh he let out as he found out he had been chasing after a phantom all along, ironically, since he was supposed to be the phantom.

 _...and now that I've found you..._

He remembered the day when his reincarnation threw out his first heist, how excited hhe had been, yet there was still a nagging feeling at the back of his mind, as if something was incomplete. It was later then when Lupin saw the same piercing eyes— the same _lovely_ shade of blue, did he found his half.

 _...finally, after so long..._

But he nearly cried in despair as he found those eyes belonging to a _child,_ and he nearly cried once more in joy and relief as he found out the story of the not-child. Lupin knew that his reincarnation was intrigued, and he hoped his reborned-self felt the same way as he did, the same _love_ and _passion._

 _...do you hate me so much..._

Lupin knew, oh, he knew, that his reincarnated-self was just as stubborn as he had been in his first life, but he— dare he say it, _hoped_ he wasn't, because then, history repeats itself.

 _...to just leave me standing here..._

His detective had stood there, eyes alight and glinting with hope, like a flame, burning bright through the night. Beautiful, enchanting, _captivating._ But then his incatnated-self repeated his mistake, crushing and stomping the fire to the ground, shattering the small bit of hope inside those eyes, and he could just feel it, as the captivating colours leaked out, leaving dull, dead eyes staring back at him as if he was a stranger.

 _...dripping in the rain..._

And he found himself, looking back into those eyes, equally empty and dead inside. His reincarnated body never registered the cold, as he had realised how much the person in front of him mattered most in the end, but it was too late, as his detective's body had grown cold and limp, skin pale and fragile, red leaking through and staining his white suit, and those _eyes,_ lifeless and _hollow._

 _...cold and alone..._

He remembered his reincarnation's reactions all too well, yet he never registered the pain of the sharp cards, tearing through his skin, destroying the organs over and over again, as ruby seeped through and he painted the ground red, only to take a breath of air and his heart pumping, beating, _living._

 _...where you go to a place..._

In the distance, a forgotten piece of a gem laid there, shining red in the moonlight, yet dull at the same time, as if crying tears of sadness. Its pieces glittered along the rooftop, scattered like dust, small, insignificant, _meaningless._

 _...I cannot even follow..._

What is life if you do not love? And what means do you have if you're breathing, your heart _beating_ , yet you are not _living?_

At that point, Lupin knew, this is it, the last try, and he had _failed._ His fragile heart cracked and shattered as he drowned, deeper and deeper into the abyss of insanity.

 _...save me from this eternity..._

Lupin— no, _Kaito_ was drowning, deeper and deeper into the shadows he had _tried_ to avoid for so long. He was sinking, suffocating, as the currents dragged him under, chaining him there, and he found himself not wanting to move. He was _lost_ , and he had no string to pull him out of the maze.

 _...Shinichi..._

 **Well, a _short_ one-shot from me. Honestly, I think I got something wrong over there. And sorry if this seems confusing to you. Amateur writer here.**

 **I'm feeling kind of angsty, so I thought 'why not give it a try?'**

 **Dunno if this is good.**

 **But well...**

 **I hoped you _cried._**

 **#MeanA*** **s**

 **Anyway, I have nothing left to say, so...**

 ** _au Revoir~_**


End file.
